The Undoing
by Ginger Sheikah
Summary: The conflict deepened. His passion for the end of the benders did not sway, but the desire to have his old life was fueled. However, it was not just his old life in general he wanted. No, that would not be enough. He wanted the very thing that had made this change. He wanted Korra. KorraXAmon/Noatak
1. Chapter 1

**You guys. Welcome to my second favorite piece of fanfiction and one of my favorite pieces written. This was written the day after the Legend of Korra Season 1 Finale. I spent that entire day writing this, I was so inspired. Now, I guess with season 2 already done, this would be so unbelievably uncanon, but that's okay. I suppose this is considered an A/U fic. Please enjoy and happy reading :)**

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**The Avatar had entered into his domain.** The water tribe girl unknowingly stepped into a world where she was no longer safe. She no longer lived her days under the protection of superiors, away from the troubles of the real world. How could she even call herself an Avatar when she spent her life hidden away down in the South Pole, knowing nothing of the problems and strife of the real world?

It made no difference now, thought Amon as he sat in his seat in the shadows. The announcement of her arrival in Republic City had accelerated his plans. Yes, his Equalist followers would have to scramble like mad to ready themselves and take this opportunity that had so willingly and naively presented itself. It caused his most competent men great stress and agitation.

It excited Amon. His men, though of the same attitude about their bending brothers, had their minds too busy with details and plans and tactics. In their haste, they were forgetting what Amon's Regime truly stood for.

Equality; a world without the tyrannical rule of benders who disrupted the discord and harmony of the world.

Amon's stomach tightened at the thought of what benders had done to him. The Avatar, the so called peace keeper, the bridge between the spirit world, and the master of all four elements, was no better than the fire benders who had wiped out entire nations to strive for their own glory and power. Any master of an element was scum. At least, so was any master who took inhumane pride in their work…Amon knew that _some_ bending was practical if put to use to better the world.

Amon knew that he planned to do just that; better the world and rid them of benders who failed to use their gifts for good. Many did use their ability to lord it over those who did not have bending. They abused their gifts to gain things from others who did not have. Benders became arrogant and unfeeling for all of humankind that did not have power over any elements. How could an Avatar with a unique ability to bend all four elements be an ambassador for all people?

Amon could answer that question. There was no way for the Avatar to relate to anybody.

Yet, not every man or woman who could bend would use their power for just causes. That is what made him a better man, and a hero to all who were unaware of the truth of who he really was. His identity was his personal issue. He would be what the people needed him to be. They needed to see that a seemingly common man was powerful enough to rise up and fight the benders.

And when the girl Avatar had grown bold enough to face him, he would be ready to greet her with open arms. He would place his hands upon her and cleanse her body of the impurity that she so foolishly loved.

**It was a fleeting moment **that he had seen her. Yes her bending was skillful, rightfully so as she was the Avatar. In his mind's eye, he replayed her powerful movements over and over again. He had met somebody who could truly be called a worthy opponent. Yet he had sensed arrogance in her. She was young, immature, and most likely full of hot air.

From behind him he could hear his men agonizing over her escape. Let them agonize, Amon mused. He knew that her escape would warn the City of his power. The news of his ability to take away bending would spread like fire. Amon's name would be feared. People would whisper about him on the street corners and keep their bending children under their careful watch. No bender would feel secure. They would know that even the all-powerful Avatar was in danger of him. The only solace to be found was to hide their bending abilities, to become as a common non-bender.

It was the dawning of a new era, and it would be instigated by the warnings of a girl who thought she was doing some good for the people. If only she knew how much it would actually help her new enemy…

**She wanted a fight, but she never said **it had to be fair. Amon waited in the shadows of the Statue of Aang. The opportune moment would come. As she had done every step of the way so far, the girl would blindly walk right into his path. Tonight, he would take more than just her bending; by taking her power, he would take her life's pride, her heart's reason to beat. He would take her soul.

A gust of wind blew and with it came the form of the Avatar, walking by the dark entrance to the Statue. She was so careless.

At his silent command, Amon's Equalists came out of the dark and threw their weapons to disarm the girl. The Avatar was dragged into the depths of the Statue, meeting more Equalists in the darkness. Only the flames of her own desperate fire bending cast light on her. Amon watched from a distance.

She had water in her spirit. Though she bent other elements to free herself, he could see the tenacity and strength of a true water tribe girl flow through her. He saw her clothes and the style she wore her hair in. Blue and white clashed with the dull tones of the Equalists' clothing. She was colorful, vibrant. She made herself stand out. The world was to be made known of her presence.

She fought like a valiant soldier. His most skillfully trained men had a fair fight against her. Yet despite her all-powerful bending, normal men finally subdued her, blocking her chi and bringing her down. She fell to the floor in a helpless pile. Lifted up by her arms, the girl was roughly brought to her knees in a prone position.

Like a predator, Amon stepped out of the shadows. The girl caught sight of him. Fear shone in her eyes like a beacon of weakness. There was not a single thing she could do to help herself.

"I received your invitation, young Avatar." His mysterious voice growled as he entered into the pool of light where the bender was.

The Avatar was at his mercy. Take away her bending, and she was just a frightened child. The thrill of her capture coursed through him like electricity. Subduing her was the penultimate victory, the second greatest step to achieving his goal. Once he stripped her of the bending, he could surmount any challenge and he could take the rest of the world's bending. She was just an obstacle he was about to overcome.

His bare hand rose up to touch her forehead. That was all it would take. A simple touch, a harmless caress and she would be weakened. The frightened girl turned her face away.

Too quickly did his hand grow closer to her. He was taking this too fast, he realized. The moment needed to be savored. The glow from the dim torchlight danced over her face. As Amon looked down on his prey, something in his stone heart opened. The tribal loveliness of her features, the dark skin, and the ocean blue eyes reminded him all too well of the past that he sought to forget. His eyes, blue just like hers, roamed over her face, her arms, and her clothes. This girl struck a chord within him.

Amon, the enigmatic leader of the Equalists, hesitated for a breath of a second as his fingers were about to graze the skin of her face. He turned his palm over and with the slightest pressure, grabbed her chin and turned her face to meet his mask. Vulnerable pools of blue bore into the depths of dark shadowed slits. Yes, something about the girl resonated in his barren heart. Yet that something caused him to postpone his plan to destroy her.

"Our showdown, while inevitable, is premature. Although it would be the simplest thing for me to take away your bending right now, I won't." Her expression echoed the surprise and disbelief she was feeling. Though he could almost feel the shock of his own people, Amon calmly continued.

"You'd only become a martyr. Benders of every nation would rally behind your untimely demise, but I assure you, I have a plan. And I'm saving you for last, then you'll get your duel, and I _will_ destroy you."

Before she could speak a word, Amon thrust his fist into her shoulder. With a gasp, the girl fell face first onto the cold stone floor.

"What shall we do with her body, Amon?" asked the Lieutenant. Amon did not look back at his most faithful follower. He was still quietly reeling from the foreign, unwanted rush of emotions that the girl had unknowingly initiated. Memories of his former life haunted him as they had never done, and pitiful feelings that he could not explain clouded his head.

"Leave her," Amon finally answered. "Let them find her. Let them think that I am a merciful man."

**Korra. Her name plagued his thoughts. **He wanted to destroy her. He wanted her more than just powerless. Amon wanted to see Avatar Korra as nothing less than a shell of a human being; a hopeless, loveless, bitter individual whose innocence and naive ideals about life and bravery and good vs. evil were taken away and all that was left was a raging anger that would act out in pain and seek to destroy the source of it.

Amon wanted to see Korra reduced to what he himself had become. The desire to see her meet that end was smoldering. It was not only because she was the Avatar. It was not only because she was his enemy. It was not even because she had joined a vicious task force created by Councilman Tarrlock to bring his Equalists to what she believed was justice.

A spark had ignited in him that set off an inferno of conflict. Amon was starting to understand his weaknesses, and she was one of them.

When Amon looked upon Korra's face during their confrontation, he saw the manifestation of all things that he desperately hated. That made sense.

What was different however, was that he also saw a striking girl who reminded him of the love of a culture and an art that he abandoned. Gazing into her eyes, he remembered a time that was not so filled with complication. Though the Equality movement was his life, it held no happiness for him. The resolution of a deeply rooted grudge did not fill him with what he had hoped to feel. Instead he felt heavy and confused. In light of this revelation, a whole world of suppressed, forbidden feelings had opened up to him.

He never wanted this kind of life. Secretly, he wanted the life that Korra now represented to him. She was everything his life should have been. As a boy, Amon wanted to be a great, skilled hunter. He wanted to fall in love with a beautiful and strong water tribe girl and provide for her and protect her. He wanted to be the man that he once believed his own father to be…that was until his despicable father showed a dark side that was beyond anything he could have imagined.

Bending had taken the chance of that kind of a life away from him. He saw Korra as everything he could have had, if the sacred art had not destroyed his future. The same girl that made him yearn for a life never to be gained was also the very incarnation of the bending that ruined what he lost, what he longed for in the back of his mind that still called himself…

No, he would not suffer his new persona to the name of his old life. The painted mask that he now wore to hide the ghost of his past was his new face. He had a new name, more fitting for his new life. Amon was the man that every man and woman saw. The man behind the mask no longer had a name in the world.

Amon could not sleep. Korra's face kept rudely interrupting his dreams. The full moon shone over a misty bay as Amon stood from his bed and walked to the window. Dawn would rise in a few short hours. Air Temple Island protruded from the middle of the bay.

She was there. That's where Korra stayed. Amon walked over to a desk. On the glossy surface of the wood sat his visage, the face of Amon. Next to that was a little jar of red paint, perfect for creating fake scars and burns…

Amon snatched the items up in his hands and shoved them into a drawer. They could hide there for a little while.

The man nimbly jumped out of the window and into the street below. Luckily, his followers did not know where he lived. It was one of the many things about himself he kept secret from them.

There were hardly any people milling about in the early hours of the morning. Amon breathed in the night air and felt the full moon beaming down upon him. It felt strange to be walking out in the open without his mask. It had been even longer since he felt the moon, especially the power of a full moon.

The waters of the bay were not too far away. He snuck his way down to the shore and stood at the edge. Water called to him. He lifted his fingers, feeling the liquid push and pull underneath his grasp. How long had it been since he allowed himself to bend water and not the blood of his victims?

Amon took in a deep breath and plunged himself into the cold water.

**He knew something was wrong with him. **Amon, the admired leader of the Equalists, was hiding behind an outcropping of stone like an animal stalking its prey. The sand beneath his feet was soft and unstable as the waves washed over them, sinking him deeper into the unstable ground. Peering around the damp stone, he found what he was looking for.

Korra was water bending beneath the glory of a full moon. Her arms flowed as she wove a shining ribbon of water through the air. Every step was in perfect sync. Her body bent and moved just like the water she represented. It did not matter that she could produce fire from her limbs or conform the earth to her will. She had water in her soul. The love for her natural element was obvious. The water was an extension of her body, and an extension of her soul.

As he watched her, he remembered how it felt the first time he bent water. It felt cold, but refreshing, as though he were taking a first sip of water after being deprived of it for years. He once loved to practice bending, especially beneath a full moon as she was doing now. It had made him happy, as a child, and watching her now rekindled his long buried happiness. He felt his feet shifting forward, aching to take him beside the girl and join her under the radiance of the moon.

Amon took a step back and pushed himself further behind the rock. Fingers tugged at hair and he shook his head fitfully. Bending was evil, he hurriedly reminded himself. He wanted to rip out the image of her bending from his mind. It was a beautiful sight, a lovely young woman silently bending water in the light of the moon with a glow of happiness on her face. She treated her bending as the way all people should; with respect and love.

The conflict deepened. His passion for the end of the benders did not sway, but the desire to have his old life was fueled. However, it was not just his old life in general he wanted. No, that would not be enough. He wanted the very thing that had made this change. He wanted Korra.

**Every encounter was filled with angst. **Amon saw her and his heart blazed with hate and longing. His yearning for the bender had grown into something close to an obsession.

The attack on the Pro-bending arena was a glorious victory, but the girl had put up an excellent fight. He looked down at her as she spewed forth a blast of fire into his airship. Her face was not the fearful one he kept seeing in his memory; her face was strong and full of anger.

Amon heard news of Councilman Tarrlock kidnapping the girl and taking her to an abandoned shack deep in the mountains. When Amon and his men arrived, Tarrlock had her imprisoned in an iron cage and she had failed to find a way to escape his trap. Amon sensed that the girl would take any chance she could to fight her way to freedom. She was not to be underestimated. He even warned his men of that, yet she ingeniously found a way to thwart them.

He was by the car, heaving the equalized Councilman Tarrlock into the back when Amon heard a loud crash coming from the inside. Every hair on his neck stood. The very wind seemed to stop and the world around him fell silent, waiting in anticipation for their latest exchange. Korra was free and she was close.

So very close.

Amon slowly turned to face her. The girl's face betrayed fear and panic, but her movements did not falter. She threw her arms up and a flurry of snow surrounded Amon. His breathing quickened as he swept the snow away from him.

Korra was running from him, throwing herself down a steep embankment to get away.

With a thrill, Amon raced to catch up to her, yearning to reach her yet burning to harm her.

She was too far ahead of him. He watched with a cold heart and growing despair as she slid down the mountain.

His men were beside him, breathless and useless.

"I thought I told you not to underestimate her," he softly reprimanded.

She was such a water tribe girl, moving through conflict and finding a path in all the obstacles. It was like the way water moved, carving a path through stone or squeezing itself through the cracks in a dam. Korra was the spirit of water. She escaped him again. Amon, though chiding his men for underestimating her, could not help but be highly impressed by her tenacity.

**The end was near. **The Council was broken apart and their bending was gone. General Iroh's attempt to aid the benders was thwarted. As a mockery to Korra and all the Avatars, he had placed a mask of Amon upon the face of Aang's Statue. Republic City was his.

The Avatar herself was nowhere to be found. No matter. He would find her. He would tear the world apart to find her and bring the girl under his dominance and strip her of the bending she was so proud of. Maybe then he would take her life. If he did, he would finally be free of the hold she had on his heart…as much as it would tear him apart, that action would complete his victory and Amon would fully be Amon once more. He would be cleansed of her destructive influence.

The Rally was underway. It seemed as though all of Republic City's non-benders had gathered here to listen to him. Victory was at hand, yet he still felt the emptiness of his quest. As Amon was lifted through the trap door and on to the stage, he succumbed to his chosen life. If he was to always be miserable and unhappy, then it was for the greater good of the world.

Amon did not get very far into his speech. Korra, in all her boldness and bravery, appeared. She spoke his name, his true name, the name that longed for his old home and for Korra to be a part of a new life. He wanted her to say it again…

Even so, Amon was horrified. The girl had somehow spoken to Tarrlock. It infuriated him that his secret was in danger of being exposed, yet it also consolidated him to know that his brother had known it was him beneath Amon's mask. Even after all the years apart, Tarrlock still knew what it felt like to be in the grip of his brother's blood bending.

**Korra would not escape this time. **The Airbender family meant nothing to him now that his prize was so close by. He would find them later on. She was all that mattered now.

He ran swiftly down the hallway, almost breathing in her scent. She was so close.

A wall of fire erupted out of nowhere. It was her fire. He sped up his pace and as the inferno towered over him, Amon's feet left the floor and he sailed through the flames. He landed on the other side, without even a scratch or a burn.

Amon could still see the look she gave him when he took off his mask and revealed his face. She was disgusted, shocked, and disappointed. If only she knew what was really underneath his façade…he would like to see her face then.

A door to his left was swinging as if it had just been opened. Amon knew she was behind that door. He walked into the silent room. There was nobody there that he could see, but he could feel blood pumping through the veins of two bodies. Which one was hers?

Ah, the one under the table. With a flick of his wrist and with no qualms about exposing himself, he pulled Korra out from her hiding place with blood bending. Coming to aid her was the fire bender, Mako. Amon felt jealous for a fleeting second. That boy had a life that he would never hope to have; he had Korra.

Amon flexed his fingers and the boy was under his spell, though he made sure it was far more painful for the fire bender than it was for the girl.

In a few flashes, Korra was on her knees. He came up behind her and roughly grabbed her shoulders. His heart beat faster than it should have. She was in his hands, and he would not be weak to her a second time.

This moment would be different.

After this she would be powerless. She would be no Avatar. She would just be Korra, the water tribe girl. The face of Amon, the face of his past was a scarred visage to her. She would not know of his true identity.

In the seconds it took for him to touch his thumb to her smooth forehead, he decided that he would not kill her. He would keep her alive. When she could not come to terms with her loss of bending and the victory of Amon, she would leave the fire bender. She would not go back to Air Temple Island. In her failure, she would return home to the South Pole.

She would need a great deal of comfort. She would need somebody stronger than a mere street boy to console her. A man of her own race and tribe would seek to help her, a man whose face was not scarred and terrifying, but unscathed by anything. Amon could have his two worlds. He could still be the leader of a new era, and he could have the life he always wanted. He could have it with the girl he was about to purify. In a few moments, she would be perfect. She would never know the identity of the man who would protect her and provide for her.

In a rush of cold and blood, he felt the bending of the Avatar slip away beneath his fingers. It was over. The girl fell to the floor in a heap.

Korra had been Equalized.

**He could not let the boy get away with his prize. **Amon chased the fire bender down the narrow hallway. Korra was in his arms.

Soon, she would be in Amon's. The man viciously bent the boy's blood and hurled him against the wall. He bent his limbs in grotesque forms. His hatred for Mako seethed and he hoped that the boy could feel it coursing through his veins.

Amon put him in the perfect position to take away his fire. He would be nothing.

What he did not notice was Korra, standing up and making a fist. He heard a rushing of air and an invisible force threw him back.

"I can…air bend? I CAN AIRBEND!"

Amon's heart sank as her words went from stunned to triumphant. The life he had planned for the aftermath was crashing around him. The girl could still bend, but how?

The ensuing battle was short lived. Amon was unceremoniously thrown through a window. His limp body sailed through the air and crashed into the waters of the bay.

Water was pouring into his lungs as he sank to the bottom. With a choking gasp, Amon's eyes flew open and his old water bending instincts flew to his consciousness. Without even thinking, the former water bending master swirled the element around him and a tornado of water was formed.

With a gasp, the man rose out of the water in a great eruption. Wind from the force of his bending whipped his hair around, and he felt a sticky substance fly off his face. It was his paint, the façade he had painstakingly put upon his skin was wiped away by the very element he had sought to forget.

Cries of accusation and shock came from below. He frantically looked left and right, staring down on the faces of all his faithful Equalist followers. Amon looked to his right and saw her.

Korra, with her brow furrowed and her mouth set into a firm line, glared at him. There was no hint of shock at the revealing of his true face. She did not show a single sign of fascination or admiration. All Amon could see was hatred.

He would never have her. He would never have anything. His regime was destroyed, taken down as his identity as a water bender was known. The chance, the small chance he had at starting a new life with the girl, seemed so desperate and foolish now.

It took a split second for Amon to decide what he would do. With a twirl of his arms, the man fell back into the sea.

**Tarrlock would be his new life. **A reconciliation with his brother just might be the key to his salvation. Amon drove a boat, an invention of his former partner in crime, Hiroshi Sato.

Tarrlock sat in the back, saying nothing. The wind whistled as Amon steered in the direction of the North Pole. Korra would know who he was now, if she ever saw his face. His plan to woo her after she returned home would never work.

He mused on this as Tarrlock sat silently in the back. There were other things he could do. His father had started over as a new man, why could they not do the same?

A small newfound hope rose up inside him. There was nothing that they could not do. He voiced this thought to his brother.

"Yes, Noatak," replied his brother, sounding flat. It did not matter. Noatak was once again a name in the world. Amon no longer existed. How good it felt to hear the sound of his own name.

"It will be just like the good old days."

The good old days. Noatak, no longer Amon, shed a tear at the thought of starting over, to dissipate his hatred, and to heal from the real, emotional scars left upon him by his past. It was time to move on. Korra's face flashed before his eyes. He saw her smiling as she bent the water under the full moon, the fluid moves of her body mesmerizing him. It was her he wanted, but such was his loss. He could move on, even from her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw quick bursts of blue light. As quick as a breath, a booming explosion erupted in the ocean air and he felt excruciating pain as he was flung from the boat in a cloud of black smoke. His sight darkened as the water of the ocean was rushing to meet him. The water was once his life's essence, and now it would become his grave. Noatak closed his eyes and once more thought of Korra, her beauty, her love for water bending, the hate and passion he felt for her. She was the last thing that he saw before he lost consciousness and fell into the hungry, dark water.

**The Spirit World was beautiful. **It was rugged and covered in ice and snow. A glorious sunset bathed the land in a soft glow. Noatak was lying upon the rocky shores of a beach in the Spirit World. He looked around him and he was reminded of home. Snowcapped mountains dominated the skyline. He wondered if the Spirit World was what you made it to be. This certainly was his heaven.

Noatak pulled himself to his feet. Sharp pain ran down his back. He yelled in agony and his spine bent from the amount of pain he was in. How could he still feel if he was dead?

Or was he? Noatak felt his chest. It was solid. He wiggled his fingers. They felt real. There was only one way to know if he was dead or not.

Noatak turned around and faced the sea. He lifted his hands and willed the water to form into a giant wave. With a great rumbling, the briny water succumbed to the pulling of his mind. He could bend. Noatak survived.

**A kind southern water tribe family who knew nothing **of Amon's true face had kindly taken him in, thinking that he was a victim of a terrible accident at sea. There was some truth to that…

The little children around him chatted excitedly about how the Avatar Korra was back in the South Pole. The husband and wife kindly explained that after "the monster Amon" had taken her bending, the Spirit of the past Avatars miraculously restored her bending. Noatak excused himself, thanking the family for their generosity.

He had to find her.

The wife gave him one of her husband's extra fur coats and wished him good luck. The man said that the main settlement of the South Pole was east of their home, and that perhaps he could find help there. The children danced around his legs, begging the strange man in their home to take them to see the Avatar. Noatak escaped the house as quickly as he could. He needed to see if this rumor was true.

**She was not bending, but rather lying vulnerably in her bed. **Sleep had taken her. Korra's arms were wrapped around her body in an embrace. Noatak could have taken her bending again, but he knew that it would only be restored again, and again, and again. It was of no use.

Noatak slowly knelt by her bed. He hesitantly raised his hand to her head, daring himself to touch her. His fingers gently wove through her hair. Her scent wafted through the air between them. He breathed in deeply and let himself become lost in her essence. His enemy, the incarnation of evil in his eyes, was also the last thing left in the world that made him feel like Noatak, the son of the North. She, the daughter of the South had freed Noatak from Amon.

The Avatar truly was the peacemaker. His heart, though still heavily conflicted and angry, was healing. Water benders were healers too, were they not? As quietly as he could, Noatak leaned down and pressed his lips upon the girl's sleeping face.

"Thank you, Avatar Korra. You have saved me." He moved his lips from her cheek and brought them down on her own lips. Korra barely moved under his touch, but he felt her lips form into a smile. Perhaps she dreamed of her fire bender, thought Noatak. It did not matter. He would dream of her forever.

She was his undoing. She was the solution for Amon, when Amon believed himself to be the solution for the world. Hatred for her burned in the part of him that was still Amon, but the deprived Noatak relished in her.

Noatak reluctantly pulled away from the stolen kiss. He would never have a woman to love, protect, and provide for. If that woman was not Korra, then she would be nobody.

Like a thief in the night, Noatak left her room and disappeared into the frozen wasteland. Of course, he would have to leave the South Pole. It was too dangerous to live there, in the Avatar's domain. He would return to the North Pole. He would start again, without his brother. Noatak did not know whether or not to curse Tarrlock's name, or to bless his apparently troubled soul.

It did not matter. Noatak could not let the past harm him any longer.

Bright lights of the aurora borealis danced over the northern horizon. After all the hatred, after all the hurt, after all the scheming and confusing emotions, and after being broken down by an innocent girl that had captured his heart, he was ready to follow the lights.

They were calling him home.

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Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Normally, I am the kind of person to outline their stories. When I wrote "The Undoing" it was in a burst of inspiration after the LoK Season 1 finale. I never planned on expanding the story. I just thought to leave it as it was. Months later, I had another sudden burst of inescapable inspiration and I had to write this next chapter. Please enjoy this next installment of "The Undoing," and happy reading!**

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**Cold was the wind **that blew over the barren fields of snow and ice. A crescent moon shone down, illuminating the silvery landscape. One man, a lonely hunter, was crouched on an outcropping of stone, protected from the stinging air that whipped over him.

Noatak exhaled a steadying breath against a thick, woolen balaclava that covered his forehead and mouth, only exposing his sharp blue eyes that scanned the terrain for any sign of a creature. The white fur on the hood of his dark blue parka brushed against his exposed skin; it itched terribly. He blinked his eyes hard and felt weary. Many hours had passed that he sat hidden from sight.

Noatak, hunter of the Northern Water Tribe, leaned against the stone at his back, letting his tense muscles relax. He tore his eyes away from the earth and let his gaze trail up to the crescent moon. It was waning, dying. The ever-changing moon was reaching its last stage before it disappeared completely to be reborn in a new cycle.

He pondered how his ever-changing life reflected the moon, the sole source of a water bender's power.

Three years had passed since he was Amon, the cunning leader of the Equalist movement in Republic City. Three years had passed since his entire regime was brought to its knees by a captivating water bender; a girl that still plagued his thoughts every waking moment. Three years had passed that Noatak fled to the North Pole to assume a new identity and anonymously fade into the background as just another non-bender Water tribesman.

Sihanouk the Hunter was his new façade. A remote village, far north of the main Water Tribe city, had welcomed him with open arms. Noatak pretended to be a man that was tired of the strife and mundane existence of Republic City. The modern metropolis with all its bright lights and tall buildings did not appeal to him when there was so much animosity growing between benders and non-benders. His roots were calling him back to the North.

Or so that is what he told his fellow tribesmen.

It was not a simple task to erase the life he lived as Amon. At night he would often dream of rallying before the non-benders, the common people of the nations, and feed them hope and the promise of a new era. Thousands of people willingly put their blind trust in him, the faceless Amon. Victory for his cause was at hand!

Then out of nowhere, a blue-eyed girl with water in her soul would come and wash his dreams away, leaving nothing left until there was only her image standing before him.

At this, Noatak would reach out to her, loathing her and longing for her all at once. The ache of such conflicting emotions he had for the girl would wake him up.

With a shock of reality, he would remember that he was no longer the trusted leader of a great people. Everything he had envisioned in his dream would fade. The power that he once painstakingly sought to gain was only a distant memory. Noatak was forced to remind himself that he rebuilt his image yet again. He was Sihanouk, not Noatak, and not Amon.

That was what he was constantly doing: rebuilding and rebuilding upon different foundations of names and faces. He was becoming what he despised the most. Noatak was now a man whose life echoed that of his father, Yukone. Just like his father before him, Noatak created a new life that covered a multitude of lies and a sinister background.

Noatak took out his hunting knife and idly etched a simple message into the icy ground.

"I and my father are one."

It was a simple line that came from an old poem Noatak once learned as a child. The verses were spoken by a boy in his growing up years, telling a story about how much he wanted to become like his father. At every stage of life, the speaker of the poem would end the stanza with this one phrase.

I and my father are one.

Yes, Noatak knew that he had become like his despised father. He was a deceiver, just as Yukone had been. Noatak used his bending for dominance, just as Yukone had done. Yukone even became another man to escape justice and so did Noatak erase his true identity to hide from punishment that the benders believed he deserved.

There was not a soul in the Northern tribes that would know the hazy truth of his past. Only one person could tell his story as well as he could, yet that man had entered the Spirit World by his own hand three years ago…

Tarrlock was a victim of the sins of their father. The choices he made with his pathetic life were shaped by the influence of his father's vengeful, hateful spirit. Not even Tarrlock could escape the hold that Yukone, long since passed, continued to have over his sons. It was as if his spirit were still alive, berating them for being failures and chastising them for not destroying the Avatar like he had trained them to do since boyhood.

The tip of Noatak's knife dug into the ice as he angrily scratched out the words he had written.

His father was dead to him, even if he did continue to live on through his eldest son. Tarrlock was dead to him as well. His younger brother had been weak and he could not live to face the trauma of his past.

Only Noatak remained as the victor, though he could not think of himself as a better man than either his brother or father.

A soft rumbling of hooves thudding against the packed snow could be heard in the distance. Noatak reached for his weapons as his body became poised to strike. The herd of caribou he had been waiting for finally arrived. He pushed thoughts of his degenerate family from his mind. There would be no time to dwell on sadness now. It was time to become the hunter.

**The greatest hunter of the north **sat before a glowing fire, surrounded by other tribesmen. Noatak leaned forward with his elbows planted on his knees and his chin resting on his folded hands.

Within this circle of men, some benders and some common, he was Sihanouk. Noatak only existed within his private thoughts.

Noatak knew that though he was a strong, stern man of few words, the villagers were undeniably drawn to him. The tribal elders held him in high regard, the men looked to him for leadership, and the women held him as a standard for what all tribesmen should be; a perfect example of a hard working, robust, strapping man that had the heart of a warrior and was as mysterious as the northern lights gliding over the dark horizon. Noatak epitomized the ideal man of the Water Tribe.

He had a natural aura that commanded respect and admiration. Even his voice was able to capture anyone's attention and the people who listened would allow his words to mesmerize them.

When he lived as Amon, he used these aspects of himself to win over the hearts of the oppressed non-benders. His revolution was nearly a success, due to his natural charisma.

Now in the eyes of the tribesmen around him, Sihanouk was a god. They would ask, how could a man who had lived in the city for so many years be able to return to his home in the northern tribe and easily become the most skilled hunter that had been seen in generations?

Even the most advanced water benders could not compete with the agility and stealth of Sihanouk, a man whose ability to hunt did not need the art of bending.

Noatak heard whispers amongst the people in his village that when the great Sihanouk hunted, the animals themselves seemed drawn to him, just as though he were calling to them and they answered with their lives. Noatak was a natural hunter with a wonderful gift…

He did not see his natural ability as such a gift. Not even under the guise of Sihanouk could Noatak escape his blood-bending curse. The affliction made him a legend amongst the strong, hardy people of the northern tribes. Even Amon found glory and power through his blood bending, though that gain was short-lived.

Yet this was the role that he accepted. He was living the life that he always longed for, but he still lacked one thing that would complete his heart's most secret longing.

Her. The girl that was the object of his thoughts and dreams, the girl that had unknowingly caused him to break away from the cold, blank mask of Amon, the girl that inspired Amon to once again become Noatak and turn back to the vibrant culture of his youth.

Noatak was spending this new life without her by his side and he felt just as empty as he had when he resided in Republic City. Knowing that she was out there, living as the Avatar and foolishly thinking that she was helping the world maintain balance, agonized Noatak daily. The undeserving fire bender was rumored to still be "close" to her.

Noatak regretted not taking away that street rat's life when he had the chance. He should have acted quicker instead of delaying the moment. Back then, he wanted to see the boy suffer at his hand, to show him what a true bender was capable of. The Amon of that time wanted to punish him for his role in the Avatar's life.

His rightful prize spending her love on a simple-minded boy while he spent his nights alone was his price to pay for arrogance and showing off his power.

The Noatak of today still wanted to rip that boy away from her, to take his place and see the fire bender suffer alone as Noatak always had. A surge of anger built up in Noatak. Thinking about that day always brought bitter emotions to the surface. It was best to suppress negativity and not act with irrationality. Those memories would do no good. It did not matter anymore. He could not let it.

Noatak reminded himself that he was Sihanouk. He took a deep breath and concentrated on what the men around him were saying.

Tribal life was simple. The men swapped stories of their daily adventures. Some bragged about how successful they were in the hunt this month, though every man knew that they could not shake a spear to what Sihanouk could do.

A few spoke of going to Republic City when the winter came through in the next month. Every man and woman in the northern tribes could tell by the migration of the animals and of signs in the weather that this winter would be hard.

Only Noatak and one other man sat silently. It was normal for Noatak to tend to keep to himself, but this particular young man was known to be quite liberal with his words. He was the youngest of all the hunters, his hair still tied in the youthful warrior's wolf-tail style, and he was notorious for his inability to keep his mouth shut.

He was sitting across the fire from Noatak. In his hands was a small knife and he was busy whittling away at a tiny piece of wood. So great was the concentration on his work that the tip of his tongue childishly peeped out the corner of his mouth.

Another man inquired as to what the youth was working on. With a sheepish grin, the young man bashfully admitted that he was carving a betrothal necklace for one of the village girls.

The group around the fire erupted with joyful congratulations and jovial teases of him losing his freedom when he gained a wife. More than one slap on the shoulder nearly knocked the young man from his seat and face first into the snow.

Noatak gave the boy a slow nod and congratulated him on finding a worthy woman. The men nodded their heads and murmured their agreement.

She was a water bender, remarked one of the older men. It was a blessing to have a water bender as a wife. The young man smiled as he looked up from his work and his eyes grew distant.

It was the most beautiful sight in the nations to watch her water bend, he said. Nothing could be more enchanting than watching the girl he loved practicing her water bending. Many men poked fun at the boy, calling him a dreamy sap.

Noatak felt his heart clench with jealousy and grief. He understood what the boy was saying. Even in the naivety of his short life, that young man knew what true beauty was.

An image of a girl, a beautiful girl, bending water underneath the glow of the moon had burned itself in his soul. The memory of it pained him because he knew that was all he would ever have of her.

Without a word, Noatak stood to his feet and strode away from the warmth of the fire. A few men called out to him, asking why he was leaving. Only a gust of wind answered them, picking up a flurry of snow as Sihanouk, the great hunter, disappeared into the dark, chilly night.

**An empty hut greeted him **as Noatak pushed back the flap of seal hide that was his door. Thick pelts served as carpet and heavy fur blankets were heaped upon his lonely bed. Traditional tribal weapons and paintings decorated his walls. A fire pit was carved in the middle of his floor. It was filled with dry ashes.

A crudely carved wooden dresser sat next to his bed. The few possessions he had were tucked away in the shallow drawers; the clothes he worn as Amon was all that he had taken with him when he fled Republic City.

Noatak walked over to the drawer and sat on the edge of his bed. He pulled open the bottom drawer and drew out a piece of soft cloth.

With bated breath, he carefully unfolded the cloth and slid its contents into the palm of his gloved hand.

A small, carefully carved blue charm rested in his palm. One side of the charm was a deep blue while the other side was a pale, icy blue. The middle line curved gracefully to the left and a small dot of the opposite color was at the widest area of the curve.

Yin and yang. Tui and La. Push and pull. The great spirits of the ocean and moon, the two sacred fish that eternally swam around each other in the Spirit Oasis were reflected in the charm.

The Avatar was the one to pull the world into balance. She was to pull the world to her. Noatak had been the push. As Amon he was the opposing force to her pull. He was the ocean. He wanted to push the world into a better balance, but even he fell victim to her pull. She was the moon, pulling the ocean that desperately pushed against the moon to try and stay on the shore.

He rubbed his thumb against the smooth surface of the charm. It was a lovely, intricate piece of work. Any woman would be proud to wear it around her neck.

Yet no woman could ever fathom the meaning behind the choice of design. No woman had a strong enough spirit to be worthy of his guarded affection. That was why no one but her would ever wear it.

No one else had captured his interest, his obsession the way she had. Noatak hesitantly wrapped the charm back into its protective cloth and put it back inside the drawer, never to be given to the girl of his choice.

**The Avatar was coming to the North. **A glorious sunrise heralded a new day as Noatak's fellow tribesman and closest friend came to greet him the next morning.

The news of the Avatar's visit had reached the tribesmen the night before, just as Noatak had left the fire. She was going to be staying at the main settlement of the North and this man had a brother who lived in that city. He was going to take his family there to see the Avatar and he wanted to invite Sihanouk to come with them.

Noatak felt himself break out into a cold sweat. He calmly wiped his brow and made his face show no emotion, though his soul was like a storm.

It had been three years since he last saw the Avatar. The thought of laying eyes on her again made his pulse quicken with excitement and dread.

A familiar feeling rushed through him. For a second he was Amon once more, anticipating every encounter with the Avatar, wanting to see her again. He remembered the hatred of what she was and the desire to have her that continuously battled against one another.

"Sihanouk? Will you come?" asked the tribesman, Noatak's only true friend.

Noatak rubbed his jaw with his fingers, internally wrestling with himself. If he saw her again, it would be torture to have her so close, yet so far. It would be like dangling a piece of meat in front of a starving animal, only to have it cruelly pulled away when the creature lunged for it.

Also, she had seen his face for a fleeting second years ago. Not much about him had changed since then. His hair was an inch or so longer, though he still wore it the same way he had when he was Amon. His skin was darkened by the sun, but there was a risk that she would recognize him as the man behind the mask.

Then again, he ached to see her once more. Noatak saw her face every day in his thoughts, so how could it hurt any more than actually seeing her in the flesh. The chance to be in her presence once more was tempting.

"Yes, Kalmyk, I will gladly come with your family to see the Avatar."

**All the people of the North **seemed to be gathered at the palace of the royal family in the Northern Water tribe city. The tribal elders, along with the clan leader and his family, sat at the long table at the far end of the room. On the stage were men with tribal drums, ready to announce the arrival of the Avatar.

Every man, woman, and child was teeming with excitement. A light chatter filled the great room. The new Avatar had never visited the North before! It had been even longer that a water bender had been in the cycle of the Avatar.

A hush descended over the people as the tribal elders stood respectfully to their feet.

Noatak felt his stomach tighten as the men pounded on the skin drums. She was here. The girl was in the room. He could feel it in the air. An aisle going down the middle of the room was left empty for her to walk through. In just a few moments, she would pass by him.

He wondered what he would feel when he saw her. Would he be disgusted with her now that she was a fully fledged Avatar, capable of going into the Avatar state and mastering all four elements instead of struggling with her failure at air bending? Would a different sight meet his eyes? Would he look at her and realize that he was a fool and the heart breaking attachment he held for her finally be forgotten?

Korra. She came into his sight. His blue eyes locked on to her face and the blood coursed through his body like fire.

No. Nothing about his affection for her had changed. In fact, it grew tenfold. Noatak held his breath as she walked by.

Three years of growing up had done wonderful things to Korra. She no longer had the youthful appearance to her. A young woman gracefully walked where a girl once clumsily trod.

She was breathtaking, entrancing, and fascinating. Her spirit, full of water, shone through in a beaming smile. Where her hair had once been tied back, it now freely hung over her shoulders. Soft bangs framed her face and she still tied in her hair in two signature bands in the front.

A traditional water tribe gown enticingly hung over her frame. She had grown into a woman in more than one way, Noatak noticed…

He drew those agonizing thoughts away and pulled his gaze to her eyes. They were blue like the depths of the ocean.

Her entire demeanor was more stunning than it had been three years ago. Not a thing about her spirit had changed either. By the way she carried herself, Noatak could see the tenacious, strong, captivating girl that he once loathed and desired. He could see Korra in this young woman. She had not gone. The life of being the Avatar had not changed her.

At her side was the fire bender, Mako. Noatak thought that the street brat had a weak, feeble name. Only boys were named Mako. He himself had grown over the years, though his appearance was much less impressive than Korra's. The fire bender was taller, broader, and his face held the chiseled look of a youth transitioning from boy to man.

Noatak still sensed arrogance and fickleness in the boy, yet he seemed very attached to Korra as he dutifully followed her down the aisle.

Behind him was his brother, the bulky earth bender. He had an even more stupid name than Mako. The boy had grown thicker than a tree. Earth benders were known to be quite stocky. Forcing the earth to do your will required strength of heart and body. He disliked this brother much less than the fire bender.

Noatak looked behind the earth bender. Following in his wake was a surprising face.

Asami Sato. The only daughter of his old partner was still going along with the Avatar's crowd? Noatak remembered that she had once been Mako's girl, much to the despair of Hiroshi Sato.

A family of six people dressed in garishly bright clothing followed Asami. The oranges and reds of their garments clashed with the soft hues and icy blues of the Water Tribe people.

The Air bending family! Noatak slid behind a group of people, working his way to the wall. He wanted to hide from Tenzin, the son of Aang. He had fought the man three years ago, right after he threatened to take his children's bending away.

Noatak was not ashamed of his actions; he just wanted to stay far away from the air bending master. A good father was one to take vengeance against any one who tried to harm his offspring. A good father did not train his children to be tools of revenge…

With his back against the wall, Noatak watched as Korra approached the head table and bowed respectfully to the elders. She moved with grace and elegance.

A few words between her and the elders were exchanged and then the feast in her honor began. Mako took a seat beside Korra.

Noatak made his way out of the room, undetected. He could not sit down and enjoy his time there when Korra was there. It was not natural to let his body relax when he was around her. He could not rest. His spirit was in turmoil when she was near.

He had to escape and let his clouded mind rest for tonight. Though this would not be the last time he would see her while she was here. Noatak would do all that he could to gaze upon her every chance he could.

**The night was quiet. **Noatak was perched on the railing of the balcony in his host's home, over looking the empty streets of the city below. Every one was still at the feast. It had been going on for hours.

He had come outside to look up at the moon and remember the night he had snuck out to air temple island and hid in the shadows while he watched Korra water bend.

Noatak held his balance well while he sat on the wide railing. He closed his eyes and let himself drown in that memory. Seeing her tonight had ignited his weary soul. An awakening was taking place inside him once more. Though he was living a shallow, empty life as Amon, he had a driving force that kept his spirit fiery and alive. In the years following his departure to the North, he had let his spirit die. Korra was not to be a part of his new life and it drained him of that old fire.

Now that he had seen her again, she once again sparked his fire. She made him feel alive. He was Noatak once more!

Even so, how long would this fire last after she left?

Noatak pushed that thought aside and clung to what he had now.

The sound of a pair of feet walking down broke his thoughts. Noatak shifted himself until he was hidden by the shadows.

A man was walking in the street under his balcony. They were heading to the edge of the canal that ran parallel to the street.

He approached the canal and leaned against the scrolled railing. Noatak took a closer look at the man.

It was Mako, much to his astonishment. He was completely alone. Noatak's fingers itched to bend the ice beneath the fire bender's feet. A flick of his wrist was all it would take to move the ice and send the boy head first into the water of the canal. Then he could use blood bending to hold the boy under. It would be a perfect way to get rid of his useless life.

He rubbed his hands together, ready to take action against the fire bender, but hesitated for a moment. Using his bending to murder another man to have the woman he wanted seemed so barbaric and exactly what he despised bending of. Yet what could it hurt just this once? But then he would be a blatant hypocrite? Then again, who would know that it was him?

Just was he was about to make the choice to walk inside and forget that Mako was there, another person came walking up behind him.

Asami's raven black hair glistened in the moonlight as it cascaded down her back. She placed a delicate hand on Mako's shoulder. He smiled at her and motioned for her to join him.

They were pleasantly chatting about how beautiful the Northern Water tribe city was, how friendly the people were, and how happy Korra was to see her people's sister tribe.

Their conversation faded into a comfortable silence. Noatak half expected them to wander off, but Mako voiced one question.

"Asami, how come you haven't…you know, found any one? I thought that you and General Iroh were going to be together, but…nothing ever happened with you two, right?"

It was an awkward, tedious question, one that Noatak could tell had been on the boy's mind for quite some time and he finally had the courage to voice it.

Asami and Mako's backs were to Noatak, but he could feel the palpable tension in the air from the boy's question. The girl sighed heavily and turned around, leaning against the railing. Her eyes were closed and the exquisite features of her face were pulled into a sad frown.

Remember when I told you that I felt safe with you, she asked the fire bender. He responded with a sad yes. Mako was clearly having the same sentimental feelings that she was.

Asami turned to the boy and crossed her arms around her slight frame.

"I have something to confess, Mako." Asami began forlornly. "I never wanted to tell you because I didn't want to hurt your happiness with Korra, but…I still feel safe with you. I tried so hard to move forward and open up to Iroh, but you, Mako…there is something about you that I just can't let go. Even after you left me for her, I still feel for you in a way that no one else can replace."

Noatak saw Mako turn to face Asami, who turned her face away from him.

"I'm not begging you to be with me again, Mako. I can see that you're happy. I do not want to be the one to break you two up. It hurts and I would not wish that one anyone," She said with a voice that was firm and strong. "I just want to let you know that I still care. You love Korra, and that's fine."

"Yeah, I love Korra…" Mako said in a breathless voice. He sounded so unsure of himself, like he had never truly made peace with his choice to leave the Sato girl. He sounded doubtful of his confession to love Korra.

Noatak watched as Mako lifted his hand to Asami's porcelain skin. His eyes were burning with intention to stroke her face, to touch her and have a familiar moment with his old flame.

Like a true lady, Asami gently grabbed his hand before it reached her face. She quickly kissed his fingers. Her green eyes met his and she decidedly shook her head no. Asami let go of Mako's hand, which reluctantly fell to his side.

In a few moments, the girl had fled and disappeared into the winding streets of the city.

Mako stood there, dumbfounded. He quickly turned to the canal and began to pound his fists against the icy railing. Fire from his hands melted holes into the surface.

Noatak was grinning with malicious glee. An opportunity to gain what he wanted had landed in his lap. He had found a way to drive a wedge between Korra and her unworthy fire bender.

It was time to stir the waters of contention.

Noatak pulled his balaclava over his face and set his hood over his head. He nimbly jumped from his seat on the balcony and quietly approached the fire bender. His feet made no noise as he stalked the still raging boy. Perhaps it was not the best idea to approach an angry fire bender from behind.

So Noatak called out to him.

Mako turned around with fire in his hands, ready to strike out at the strange man dressed in full hunting garb.

"Who are you?" he yelled forcefully. His golden eyes took in the hooded figure standing before him.

"Take off your hood! I don't trust men in masks!" growled the fire bender.

Noatak smiled from the irony. Amon was the reason for his distrust in men with masks. Still, Mako had also seen his true face. It would be suicide to let the boy seem him without the hood and mask.

"It is a cold night," argued Noatak. "You would not deprive me the luxury of staying warm, would you?"

Mako took in his words with hesitation, though his stance relaxed.

"What do you want?" the boy asked suspiciously.

Half of Noatak just wanted to throw the boy into the canal and be rid of him, but that plan would be distasteful and it would be horrible for Korra. That plan would most certainly back fire.

No, he needed to be more clever than that.

"I saw you talking to that girl," began Noatak. "She's beautiful."

Hurt flashed over Mako's eyes. Yes, she was beautiful he agreed.

"You seem to care a great deal for her," Noatak said, trying to push Mako into admitting his feelings for her.

Mako suddenly threw his hands into the air. He angrily grabbed fistfuls of jet-black hair and began to pace back and forth, spewing out confessions. Yes he did care for Asami! He had been with her for a time, three years ago. The Avatar had feelings for him too, and he liked her as well, but he liked Asami more. He didn't know what he wanted back then. He was just a kid!

Noatak patiently listened, waiting.

"Then Korra went missing, and my emotions went haywire! I was so worried for her and that's when I thought that maybe I loved her, not Asami! Then the whole fight with Amon happened and I saw that monster taker bending away…"

Noatak felt sick with fury. How dare this child, this disgusting bender call him a monster! Did he not remember what nation it was that caused the genocide of an entire race of people?

"I just knew, okay, you love Korra and you need to tell her as soon as possible! You need to be there for her, comfort her and all that." Mako continued, venting his feelings to a stranger that he knew nothing about.

Noatak listened silently. He was the one who was supposed to be beside Korra when she mourned her loss of bending! Not him! Perhaps it was better to just kill him right then and there.

"So I told her I loved her, but…I think that I made a huge mistake. You see, I still think about Asami all the time. It was just all these emotions and feelings running around like a pack of wolfbats and I thought that was love for Korra, but I see now…I see that I still care for Asami! There!"

He met eyes with the fire bender. Blue and gold clashed. A passing hint of recognition flashed in Mako's eyes. Noatak felt his heart race. Did he recognize his voice? His eyes? What gave it away that he was the man once known as Amon?

"What are you trying to say? Why are you so concerned about my love life, huh?" he asked suspiciously. "Have we met before?"

Noatak stared the boy straight in the eye and denied ever knowing him. Mako shrugged his shoulders and again asked why a stranger would care so much about his girlfriends.

"I thought that you would need the advice, man to man, but I see that you don't care for my help." Pretending to be disappointed in this fruitless conversation, Noatak turned to walk away from the fire bender.

"Wait!" called the boy to Noatak's retreating back.

"I'm sorry for being such a pain. Maybe I do need some advice. Tell me, what would you do?"

Noatak felt his body go light with relief. Maybe his plan had a chance after all. He turned back around to the boy.

"Water and fire do not mix," he said somberly, looking at the scorched ground where Mako had thrown fists of fire. "Water extinguishes fire. That element cannot survive with its natural opposite."

He stood taller than Mako, he realized. Noatak put his hand on the boy's shoulder, feeling the blood rush through his veins. It would be so easy to bend his blood and be rid of him for good…

No, that would be something Yukone would have done. He was not about to become even more like his father.

"Perhaps, young fire bender, you should learn that elements reflect what is in our souls, and when two elements cannot be with each other in nature, then they cannot be with each other in spirit."

Mako's face fell, and he stepped away from Noatak.

"So you're saying that…I should leave her?" he asked with hesitancy.

"No, not exactly," answered Noatak, though he could see that the seeds of doubt had been planted in the boy's feeble mind. "All I am saying is that you do what your natural element tells you to do."

**The boy had left over an hour ago. **Noatak was once again seated on the balcony. He felt like the Earth King of Ba Sing Se.

His plan was set into motion. Noatak smiled up at the moon, the representation of Korra. The mighty ocean bowed to her pulling. Noatak was helpless against the pull. She unwittingly pulled Noatak to her.

Yet the ocean was pushing once more. He was going to push Mako away from Korra.

Then the ocean and the moon would be free to live in harmony.

Tui and La.

Push and Pull.

Noatak and Korra.


End file.
